Explore "Pollyanna Grows Up" by Eleanor H. Porter on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was a very determined, square-jawed young man that alighted at the Beldingsville station late that Saturday night. And it was an even more determined, square-jawed young man that, before ten o'clock the next morning, stalked through the Sunday-quiet village streets and climbed the hill to the Harrington homestead. Catching sight of a loved and familiar flaxen coil of hair on a well-poised little head just disappearing into the summerhouse, the young man ignored the conventional front steps and doorbell, crossed the lawn, and strode through the garden paths until he came face to face with the owner of the flaxen coil of hair.
"Jimmy! " gasped Pollyanna, falling back with startled eyes. "Why, where did you -- come from?"